posted on 2024-04-25, 17:30authored byFirst World War Poetry Digital Archive Project Team
<p dir="ltr"> She is beautiful<br> With happiness invincible:<br> If cruel she be<br> It is the hawk's proud innocent cruelty.<br> <br> At poet's tears,<br> Sweeter than any smiles but hers,<br> She laughs; I sigh;<br> And yet I could not live if she should die.<br> <br> And when in June<br> Once more the cuckoo spoils his tune,<br> She laughs at sighs;<br> And yet she says she loves me till she dies.<br></p>